The drop from the deck to the beach was about ten feet and I imagined the crowd below -- yes, I was hoping for a crowd -- in shorts or even swim suits, looking up at me in my white sports coat, waiting for me to say something that would make Mary’s death go down a little easier, and maybe make living with knowing that death would eventually come for us all a little easier to swallow. I missed being in front of a congregation and freely admit I was looking forward to the opportunity. If there’s ego in that, I’m sorry. I certainly didn’t wish for someone to die so I would get another chance.

The memory of baptizing Mary in the river came back like a gentle flood of warm water -- a moment of joy for us both -- my first baptism as a freelance … whatever I am … prophet, pastor, preacher, padre. Jesus’ followers called him rabbouni, which means teacher. If that could be me, I would be happy. At any rate, I was glad for Mary’s sake she was baptized in time -- to put her fears to rest. I never believed that nonsense about needing baptism to be saved, but if she believed it I’m glad we got it done before … of course, when she slammed into that tree I doubt she had time to worry about whether or not she was baptized. But who knows what goes through a person’s mind in those last seconds. Maybe that’s exactly what she thought about. If so, I hope it gave her peace.

I felt a hand on my back and a soft voice saying, “Hello in there.” It was Becky. She was at my side, smiling. “Did you fall into a trance,” she asked, “staring out at the ocean? It does that to me sometimes.”

“I was just thinking,” I said.

“About the future or the past?”

“A little of each I suppose.”

“And what about the present? What‘s wrong with enjoying the present?”

“Nothing, nothing at all,” I said. “Funny you’d mention that; I was just thinking about someone who said we should let tomorrow’s troubles take care of themselves.”

“A good thought, but the problem is, you close your eyes and when you open them again, tomorrow’s troubles have turned into today’s.”

“You’re turning into quite the philosopher,” I said.

She laughed and slipped her arm through mine. “Maybe I’ve been hanging out too much with you!”

I smiled back at her and turned again to look out over the deck. Jerry and John-John were headed back inside. They stopped, laughing hard and John-John lifted a palm overhead as the two men exchanged high fives like college boys. Suddenly, their shadows appeared before them.

“Finally, the sun breaks through,” Becky said. “Maybe it’s going to be a good beach day after all,”

“Jerry said he’s always optimistic.”

“I am too,” she said. “Thanks to you. I have to tell you, I talked to Sagan this morning and I can’t remember when he seemed happier, much more positive about things.”

“Really? Must be the new girlfriend.”

“Well, I’m sure that’s part of it, but, you know, girlfriends come and go. I think this runs deeper. He sees how far you’ve been willing to go for him, and since your wife’s back now …”

“… he can stop blaming himself for that.”

“Right,” she said, crooking her index finger at me.

“What?”

“Lean over, you’re too tall.”

I did and she kissed me on the cheek.